Worth a Thousand Words
by bluesky21543
Summary: Collection of one-shots revolving around pictures, all exactly 1,000 words. 4: Tell Me the Truth: Petty words, a stupid bet, and a continual denial of love... Sam's in trouble.
1. Chapter 1: Genuine

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. **

**Summary: When one thing leads to another, these fake-out make-outs may not be so fake anymore...**

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**Genuine**

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It is amazing how quickly things could escalate.

It all started off simple enough. A well-practiced fake-out make-out to scare off some A-listers (apparently loser germs were highly contagious) had begun innocent enough.

But when the yells of the popular crowd faded away and Danny pulled back from Sam, he was suddenly _aware_ just how close her body was to his and how much his lips missed the silky touch of Sam's.

The hot breath in his face; the pulse beating on her flawless neck; the clarity of her eyelashes, her hair, her eyes...

Suddenly, Sam was not the little kindergartener who had offered him a place to sit on the school bus all those years ago. She was not the 7th grader beating the crap out of bullies or even the girl who had rallied the anti-fur protest last year.

She simply was.

And it was enough to stop Danny's whole world.

The halfa forced his body to inhale a raspy half-breath and instantly caught the scent of lilacs. Looking into the other's eyes, Danny did not want to stop, and he saw his own sentiments reflected in those deep violet pools.

His lips met her again, hesitant at first as he tasted the realness behind this kiss, but then when one led to a second and then a third, shyness was thrown to wind in reckless abandon.

It was a perfect moment. Their bodies were partially hidden by the many bushes and trees in the park, so as to almost create a sanctuary for their secret passion. The grass cushioned their bodies as they leaned into another. The trees rustled pleasantly as they stood like stoic guards over this intimate and long-awaited moment. Even the birds had seemed to quiet as if to leave them to their privacy.

It was perfect.

Almost.

Danny was in the process of brushing his lips up against the wildly beating pulse on Sam's neck when he had his first warning. A small sound, barely noticeable sound in a normal situation, but in the quiet of the couple's oasis, it seemed loud and grossly out of place. Or at least it would have been if either of them had been paying attention.

The halfa really did not notice the strange noises until a soft click reached his ears, just as his lips returned to Sam's awaiting mouth.

Three years of ghost hunting under his belt had heightened his senses to unnatural noises since many of his enemies seemed to favor high-tech gadgets and gizmos. The rustles and occasional snapping twig could be ignored, but the click had certainly put the half-ghost on high alert again.

He pulled away quickly from Sam, moving into to a ready crouch.

Sam picked up on his body language and reached towards her boot where she nowadays kept her mini blaster stowed away.

Danny narrowed his eyes, scanning the underbrush. It did not take long for him to pick out the familiar red article of clothing.

"Tucker," Danny groaned.

The triumphant teen stepped out of his hiding place, brandishing his ever present PDA.

"I knew it!" he gloated to his two scowling friends. "I knew it was only a matter of time. Although I admit that I thought it would have happened earlier."

"Tucker Foley," Sam grounded out. "Don't tell me that you were skulking around in the bushes taking pictures of us."

The boy grinned, still waving that blasted piece of technology like it was the 4th of July flag. "Okay, I won't tell you. I'll just let you see them like everyone else when I post them online."

Sam did not even attempt any coherent words as she lunged at Tucker with a feral cry.

The African-American boy jumped away, just out of reach of Sam's grasp. "If you wanted a copy so bad, all you had to do was ask nicely, Sammy," he taunted, his stylus hovering threateningly over the PDA. "How big do you want it? Want a nice poster to hang over your bed?"

"Foley, think of the worst possible punishment ever in your wildest imagination and it won't even be close to what I will do to you if you don't hand over that stupid device," Sam threatened.

Tucker opted to ignore Sam's threat since he seemed much too deliriously happy that he had caught his friends, not just kissing, but full-blown making out. "What about you, dude," he switched to Danny. "Want some wallet-sized pics so you can admire your beau for days on end?"

Tucker waggled his eyebrows playfully at his friend, but his teasing faltered when he caught sight of his half-ghost friend.

Danny—shy, unassuming Danny, the clueless and oblivious one of them all—had murder written in his eyes. It would be bloody, there would be carnage, and Danny would have no regrets.

Tucker swallowed nervously as his two best friends closed ranks on him.

"Can I get a head start?" he pleaded with his a nervous smile.

"Run, Foley," Sam said shortly before she lunged.

Tucker would forever deny the very unmanly, and very terrified scream he let loose that day. His end was everything he had seen in Danny's eyes and more.

To anyone who asked of that day, Tucker would only shiver uncontrollably for a moment before stammering a story filled of nightmarish horrors.

But despite Danny's ghost powers, despite the steel toes of Sam's favorite boots, and despite that fact that Tucker's PDA had been thoroughly and utterly destroyed and its remains scattered to the farthest reaches of the earth...

Despite all odds, one picture of Danny capturing Sam's lips with his own in a undeniable display of affection—one picture had been saved and printed many times over to be distributed to all corners of Amity Park.

And no matter the nightmares and mental scars Tucker claimed to have, he did in the end declare it all worth it.

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**Yes, this one-shot and the ones to follow will be all exactly 1,000 words. Why? Because I feel like it and I like the challenge. I find these one-shots to be a good source of creative practice :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Bluesky21543**


	2. Chapter 2: No Such Thing as Accidents

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**Summary: In a town as small as Amity Park, secrets just might not stay secrets. **

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**No Such Thing as Accidents**

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It was a simple device.

Certainly not something to cause confusion, amazement, and horror all in one go, yet here he was with all three quite comically expressed on his face.

The device in the man's hands was the latest and greatest in available point-and-shoot cameras—a birthday gift.

The gift had been a charming and thoughtful idea, except for the fact that the teacher had no clue in how to use the blasted device.

Earlier, he had taken the camera out on a trial run. Mr. Lancer had the notion that the city fair would be a perfect time to try his new toy, and it _would_ have been... if the the thing had actually worked.

As it was, those dozens of "family friendly" features had continually messed with just about every attempt at snapping a picture. One particularly annoying feature—a touch screen—had shot an innumerable amount of unintentional pictures since the lightest brush of his hand had sent the camera snapping away.

Later, Mr. Lancer found himself deleting all those pictures one by one since he had yet to figure out how to mass delete the photos.

Which left him in his current predicament.

Honestly, Lancer did not know how he had noticed it in the first place since he had been deleting for a while and the pictures had been starting to blur, but somewhere after the hundredth delete, Mr. Lancer's finger hovered over the trash icon when something in the picture caught his eye.

He recognized the scene immediately since it had been the apex of the day.

Two unfamiliar specters had decided to rain on the city's parade—literally.

The two water-controlling ghosts had sent a torrent of water on the festive parade floats and the crowd into a panic.

During that time, Mr. Lancer had been kicked, pushed, and jostled in the hysterical crowd.

The rough treatment by the crowd had consequently landed him a series of rapidly taken photos that would seem like a stop-motion film if his clicked the "next" button fast enough.

At first glance, the pictures had seemed to be nothing more than a frightened crowd. Looking closer, one would see exactly what had shocked Lancer into an hour of stunned silence.

In the top left corner of the series of pictures, three friends stood behind a booth, that, from most angles, would offer sufficient cover. Two of the friends gave further cover by blocking gaps and looking for onlookers; that is, they offered cover for nearly all the gaps except the one Lancer's camera happened to be pointing towards.

The third teen had an expression that Lancer would have never recognized on the boy. It was fierce and deadly, and also pointed straight towards the heart of the chaos.

What was even more foreign in this small snapshot of the teen were the two halos of light around the teen's waist. The two halos had split just enough to reveal the most iconic symbol in all of Amity Park emblazoned on his chest.

Searching further into the series of the photos, Mr. Lancer could see that midnight black turn to bleached white, and icy blue to electric green.

The final picture showed only a black and silver blur, but there was no doubt about what-or rather _who-_that was.

Lancer stared at the first picture again. He held one of the most coveted secrets in perhaps all the world.

For a moment, Mr. Lancer imagined the prestige, the publicity, the _fame _one could gain from such a secret. Newspapers, news channels, websites would run for weeks—months—with _his _picture on the front. _ He_ could be a headline. He could be celebrated as the one who discovered Phantom.

A rush of euphoria filled Lancer's senses.

Lancer did not know how long he allowed himself to fantasize over the possibilities, but somewhere along the daydream, the teacher's eyes fell upon a neat stack of recently graded tests.

Almost against his will, his hand put down the camera and grabbed the stack, leafing through the papers until he was fingering one with a name in messy scrawl.

He barely moved, barely blinked as he just sat there and contemplated the grade written in red ink on that one paper.

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"Is there a problem, Mr. Fenton?" Lancer inquired.

The teen stood nervously in front of the teacher's desk, his right hand clutching a recently returned test.

"Mr. Lancer, not that I don't like this grade, but I think... I think you made a mista-that, uh, there's been an accident," the boy quickly amended when Mr. Lancer raised an eyebrow at the very idea that he—the teacher—could make a mistake.

Mr. Lancer took the paper and glanced at the grade he already knew was there. It was a solid "B;" nothing strange unless you counted the strange way it was written as if another letter had been written underneath and the "B" had been placed rather messily on top.

"I don't believe in accidents, Mr. Fenton," Lancer announced, handing the paper back. "That 'B' is certainly no accident."

"Are sure? I mean with all the marks I got... It doesn't really add up-"

"I don't believe I've ever had a student argue over a 'B' and do remember, Mr. Fenton, I am an English teacher. Math is not my forte," Lancer stated. "You deserve that 'B,' but don't let that hold you back. I still believe that you are more than capable of an 'A.'"

The boy stared at the paper for a moment before a smile broke over his face. "Thanks, Mr. Lancer."

Later, the teacher once again found himself seated at his desk, camera in hand.

He stared down at the picture of the boy with light haloing his form. A small smile graced the man's lips as he remembered the gratitude in the boy's eyes, and with deliberate resolve and no regrets, Lancer began to finish deleting those unneeded photos.

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**Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, followed, and read this story. Welcome to those who have just started reading. And while I do have some ideas for this collection of one-shots, I do welcome some ideas from all you readers. **

**If you are not aware, I do have another collection of one-shots called "Mere Words." That one has no theme, but just randomness. :)**

**~Bluesky21543**


	3. Chapter 3: Shattered

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**Summary: It was either fight or flight, and the untamed beast inside Danny desperately wanted to survive. slight AU**

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**Shattered**

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The halo of light around his body had at first startled him. It was only about the second or third time it had happened to him, but the first time he had been more or less unconscious so maybe that did not really count.

For a moment, Danny could only stand there and try to count the seconds between each heartbeat, but he quickly stopped when no amount of grasping at his chest resulted in any heartbeat at all.

With the sense of horror and panic building up in him, Danny could no longer find any support from his legs and promptly collapsed, upsetting his desk so that a picture frame joined him on the floor.

Danny stared at the frame in unnatural fascination.

It was a black frame that appeared simple enough until one looked closer and noticed the delicate designs etched into the frame. It had been a gift from Sam only a year ago. It was fitting coming from her since she had quite the eye for atheistic things... and black.

The picture was of the trio—Sam, Tucker, and, of course, Danny. It had been a candid shot of them goofing off in front of the camera so that Danny's mom had gotten exasperated and just taken the picture as it was.

With a trembling hand, Danny reached out to the frame and pulled it close to his face. The boy in the middle had onyx hair that swept messily over laughing cobalt eyes. He had an arm slung around his two friends and did not seem intend on letting either of them go anytime soon.

Danny's eyes traveled over every detail of the photo before he shifted the frame slightly and let it catch the waning light of the evening sun.

His current image was suddenly visible in the slightly reflective surface of the glass. And in the makeshift mirror, Danny saw the dead green eyes and unnatural white hair.

Through his hazy reflection, Danny once again observed his friends. When was the last time they had laughed like that? Goofed off and had a good time?

It had not been for weeks-ever since the accident.

Even after being released from the hospital, Danny had not seen that same laughter in his friends' eyes. There had only been guilty apologies and awkward visits.

The smile, Danny decided, the smile of the boy with the black hair and blue eyes was what he hated most about the picture.

The ghost boy did not even realize what he was doing until the sound of shattering glass reached his ears, but even then, he made no move to stop, not even when his own blood began to seep onto the picture.

Green.

Blood was not supposed to be green, was it?

Dangerous, unearthly power danced around the teen's arms as it tore at the frame and his own flesh. Only when a particularly large piece of glass embed itself in his forearm, did Danny release his hold on the frame with a startled yelp.

Wrenching the offending shard from his flesh, the teen finally noticed the streams of green liquid trailing down his arms as a result of his uncontrollable powers. Danny swiped a gloved hand over one of the streams and brought green liquid to his exposed cheek.

Cold.

Where was the warmth? Blood was the warmth of life, wasn't it?

A sound startled the teen out of his musings, and he whirled to find his mother standing in the doorway, ectogun charged and ready.

"Mo—"

Danny did not even get to finish the word as Maddie Fenton let loose two blasts. One hitting only inches away from his right side and another hitting his shoulder.

Danny hissed as the burning energy ate away at his skin.

"Where is he, ghost?" Maddie demanded.

"What?" Danny managed to choke past the pain.

"Where is he? Where is my son?"

"Mom, I'm Danny—"

Maddie sent two more blasts at Danny, which he barely managed to avoid.

"Stop lying,you piece of ectoplasmic gunk," Maddie screamed. "What have you done with him?"

Danny stared in horror at his own mother, more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life.

A mad sort of light had entered those normally gentle eyes, and hysteria crept into the wordless sound of fury coming from her mouth.

And suddenly, Madeline Fenton ceased to be his mother.

In an animalistic desire to survive, Danny lashed an arm out, dispelling more uncontrolled energy of his own as the huntress continued to fire of shots.

More and more crackling energy began to surround his whole being. It was surging, pulsing, and pushing all at once, and Danny ignored the damage it did to his own body as he ironically tried to protect it.

Two more blasts from his mother found its mark, and with a definitely inhuman snarl, Danny struck out again, the current of the energy following the motion of his hand.

A cry of pain cut through the haze of hurt and betrayal in Danny's mind, and the storm of energy and emotions died gradually as he tried to identify the source of the sound.

In front of him, his mother had dropped her weapon in favor of clutching her hand that now showed evidence of a very recent and very serious burn.

Danny stared in horror as his mind began to comprehend the events of the past few minutes. Letting his eyes trail up to his mother's eyes, his world tilted on its axis. The burning hatred still glared back at him, but underneath a tiny bit of fear poisoned those usually confident purple eyes.

"No," Danny whispered. "I—I didn't—I never meant—"

He never got to finish the sentence as Maddie lunged for her weapon with her good hand and fired one last shot.

But the ghost boy was already long gone, leaving the mother alone in an empty room with only a shattered frame to tell of his presence.

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**A darker turn for Danny Phantom.**

**Answers to anonymous reviews:**

**Ghostfudge160: **Thank you for your review. I'll keep your little hint in mind, but for right now I have no idea if I shall continue doing Lancer one-shots. Perhaps the plot bunnies will pay me a visit…

**~Bluesky21543**


	4. Chapter 4: Tell Me the Truth

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**Summary: Petty words, a stupid bet, and a continual denial of love. Sam's in trouble. **

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**Tell Me the Truth**

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"Now, repeat what you just said, except a little slower."

Sam took a deep breath.

"I need your help," she repeated, nearly choking on her own tongue.

"That's a first."

"Shut up. I don't need you reminding me of that fact."

"Continue."

"Okay, so you know I hate Paulina."

"Even dirt ranks higher for you."

"Exactly, so anyways, she was doing her usual thing, you know, bragging about how she was going to marry the 'ghost-boy' and all and I kinda snapped..."

"So? You always snap at her."

"It was worse..."

A low, impressed whistle. "What'd you say?"

"It'd give you nightmares. For your own safety don't ask. Ever."

"Kay, noted. So the point of all this is...?"

"I said I was dating Danny," Sam spouted suddenly.

Silence, then, "Well, you guys might as well be..."

"Not Fenton. I said I was dating _Phantom."_

"Oh."

"Yeah, now I need to prove it."

"Why?"

"Because Paulina wants proof and there's no way I'm admitting to that shallow witch that I lied."

"No, why did you say you dating Phantom?"

"I don't know! I was mad! I wasn't thinking! I was—"

"Jealous?"

"No!" The girl quickly denied.

"Uh-huh."

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face or I'll be more than happy to take out my misplaced aggression on your face."

"Geez, Sam, chill. I'll help."

"You will?" Sam asked, relieved.

"Of course, what are friends for?"

"Your willingness to help wouldn't happen to be because of that flat-out, embarrassing rejection from last week, would it?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about," the boy dismissed. "By the way, why didn't you just go straight to Danny I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help you—"

"Not a word is breathed to him," Sam growled. "If he hears about this, he might think I'm—"

"—jealous?"

"Shut _up!"_

"Right, not jealous. So I'll help you, but..."

"But?"

"You have to do everything I say..."

Never in her life had Sam ever found a nerd with thick-rimmed glasses and a PDA so terrifying.

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Danny capped the thermos, promptly ignoring the death threats and enraged screams.

The halfa rotated his shoulder experimentally; a small scratch, nothing more.

"Danny?"

The half-ghost turned to where one of his best friends emerged from the bushes. He frowned slightly.

Sam had been acting weird all evening, and as far as he could see, there was no real reason why.

"Stupid shoes," Sam muttered as she untangled her legs from the underbrush.

"Tell me again why you're wearing those things again," Danny queried, gesturing at the very uncharacteristic pumps Sam was wearing. And that wasn't all.

Sam had forgone her usual leggings today, so only bare legs peeked out from under her skirt and her blouse was... revealing, which was saying a lot considering the girl usually wore a shirt that showed her midriff. If Danny was honest, looking at Sam for too long made his head kind of fuzzy.

"I told you; I went to a fancy dinner with my parents," Sam nearly spat at him.

"That's normal dress for something like that?"

"I was trying to piss them off," Sam muttered.

Danny nodded slowly. A outfit like that would definitely cause Mrs. Manson more than a few gray hairs, but for clothes that Sam chose, she looked awfully uncomfortable in them.

Sam stood in front of Danny, and boy desperately tried to keep his eyes up because in close proximity, the halfa suddenly realized that the shirt was more than just a little low.

"You're injured," Sam murmured softly. "Sit down."

Still in a sort of stupor, Danny obeyed. "It's nothing, Sam. It's just a scratch."

And it really was-something that would heal within the hour or two.

But Sam was already kneeling next to him, her deep purple eyes looking seductive, beautiful, and... nervous?

"I know how to make it better," Sam rasped.

And the last thing Danny was aware of was Sam's lips meeting his.

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A feral cry with an undertone of despair ripped through Casper High and shook its very foundations.

Tucker glanced at Sam with a knowing smirk. "I take it that you gave Paulina the picture?"

"You got a good pic despite it being so dark," Sam commended deftly.

"I must say, Sam. You did better than I thought," Tucker said. "I thought you were going to murder me when I suggested the pumps, but you really pulled through."

Sam sniffed, "Paulina needed to be taught a lesson. Phantom is not _hers. _Phantom is not _anyone's._ I was just defending Danny. I needed to show her that Phantom could choose anyone just like any normal person."

"Are you sure that's the only reason you did it?" Tucker teased.

Sam punched Tucker playfully. "Since you did such a good job and I'm in such a forgiving mood, I'll let that go just this once."

"Admit it, Sam. Somewhere after the second kiss, it wasn't just for the camera," Tucker pressed.

Sam looked at Tucker straight on. "I love Danny as a friend. That's it. You can stop putting the 'lovebird' label on us."

Tucker merely shrugged, still not looking entirely convinced, and bade Sam a farewell as the bell rang.

Sam stood there for a while, tasting the sour lie on her lips.

Sighing, the girl turned around the corner to head to her next class and nearly slammed into someone else.

"Sorry, I—Danny!"

Icy blue eyes stared down at her and Sam immediately knew he had heard everything.

Seconds passed, and neither spoke until-

"It's not what you're thinking," Sam started, but stopped when Danny stepped close so that his skin barely touched hers.

"Tell me you didn't feel anything last night," Danny commanded. And in a swift, graceful movement, the halfa brushed his lips against hers in a teasing half-kiss. "Tell me you don't feel anything now."

Without a second's hesitation, Sam pushed up to finish the kiss and didn't breathe another word.

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**I know… It's pretty close to the storyline of "Genuine," but I had an urge to do this one. So yeah, I hoped you enjoyed it. **

**~Bluesky21543**


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